


It Would Take an Eternity (to Break Us)

by nightshifted



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/pseuds/nightshifted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four friends who took on the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finn

In a city of overachievers, mediocrity tastes as bitter as failure.

Finn loves music. He's loved music ever since he realized that it offered an escape from growing up with crippling insecurities in the shadow of a father who made the ultimate sacrifice for his country. Music became Finn's confidence, his courage, his heart. Music spoke to him and expressed for him.

But however much he loves music, he knows that he will never sound like Rachel, or Kurt, or Santana. His voice doesn't have the same range or texture or projection; he doesn't even know what those words _mean_. And the one time he sat in on a NYADA class, he had been completely and utterly lost. He's a pretty good drummer, and he's got music in his soul, but he has no delusions about making a career out of his voice the way he knows his three roommates will with theirs.

Finn watches Rachel and Kurt perfect their craft at NYADA, watches Santana earn small singing gigs around the city and make trips to the studio, and he just feels... inadequate. In a few years, all three will be big stars, and his biggest fear is that he'll remain stationary - still struggling to find his place in the world, still fighting to carve out an identity, still a scared little boy who followed someone else's ambitions instead of his own.

There's a small scar on Finn's thigh where he accidentally discharged his weapon - a permanent reminder of one more thing in a long list of things he just wasn't good enough to do. It's _humiliating_.

The fire escape at the back of their building becomes a safe space for Finn to get away from the pressures of living in New York. He finds himself there one night after he's sure Rachel's asleep. Sometimes he just needs to be alone for a while.

The night air is cold; his breath is visible in front of his face. It scares him to think that the world keeps spinning even when he needs a moment to just _breathe_. In high school, he couldn't wait to grow up. Now, he just wishes time would wait for him.

The window latch behind him clicks, and Finn turns to find Santana crawling out onto the fire escape, a blanket draped over her slender shoulders. She startles when she notices him.

"Hey," Finn greets.

Santana shudders from the cold and tightens her blanket. "What are you doing out here?"

Finn shrugs. "Couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, same." Santana takes a seat next to him on the stairs. "FYI, if you have girl problems, I don't want to hear about it, because I'm just going to hear it again in the morning from Rachel, and I don't care _that_ much."

Finn smiles. "It's not Rachel."

Santana eyes his Superman boxers and thin cotton undershirt. "You're going to catch a cold."

"I'm fine. I haven't been out here long."

Santana touches his arm and rolls her eyes. "You're freezing," she tells him, reaching to drape half of her blanket over Finn's shoulders.

"Thanks," Finn says, tugging the blanket into place.

Santana blows out a breath of hot air. "So if it's not Rachel drama, what's keeping you awake?"

Finn shakes his head. "It's nothing."

"Nothing's nothing," Santana insists. She bumps her shoulder against his. "What is it? Work? Acting classes? Family? Did Doctor Frankenstein finally come to collect you, his long lost creation?"

"You ever think that you've already lived the best years of your life?" Finn blurts out.

Santana watches him for a second before staring straight ahead. "I spent the majority of my adolescence in the closet and unhappy with myself, so I sure as hell hope not."

"What if it just doesn't get any better than high school quarterback for me?" Finn asks. "What if you and Rachel and Kurt all become wildly successful and I'm still a cabbage patch kid?"

Santana swallows hard. "Finn..."

"It's stupid, I know," Finn quickly dismisses, feeling silly for having brought it up. "I know I've got stuff going for me, but I guess I just don't want to be the anchor that drags the three of you down."

The latch behind them clicks a second time, and Rachel tumbles out a moment later, wrapped in a heavy robe, rubbing her eyes.

"Finn?" She blinks, disoriented, and approaches them. "Santana?" Rachel climbs over Finn to sit on his lap. She rests her head against Finn's shoulder and yawns, sliding her arms around his torso. "What are you guys doing out here? It's freezing!"

"Says the girl wearing the tiniest pair of shorts known to man, Jesus."

Finn instinctively covers Rachel's bare legs with his arm, but Rachel just laughs. "Don't give yourself an aneurism checking me out, Santana."

Santana scowls. "Screw you, I was talking about your shorts, not your legs. Whatever."

The ensuing laugher makes Kurt poke his head out the window. "Some people have class in the morning."

Rachel sleepily reaches for Kurt. "C'mere."

Kurt disappears for a moment and reappears with a coat on. He limbos under the window and shuts it behind him before joining the other three, squeezing in on Santana's other side.

"If I screw up my rehearsal tomorrow, I will have all of your heads," Kurt informs them.

Santana turns to Kurt. "Say something nice about Finn."

Kurt stares at her like she's lost her mind.

"Never mind." She turns back to Finn and rolls her eyes. "I can't believe I'm about to say this. Look, you _are_ an anchor," she tells him. "Just not in the way that you think. You don't drag us down, okay? You keep us grounded. You keep us from hurting ourselves. I know that if I come home after a long day, you'll always have a hug for me, as long as I want one. And I know that if I fuck up, you'll do anything in your power to make me laugh, even at your own expense. And I know, more than anything, that if I were in a fight, you're the one I want standing behind me. I just wouldn't give you a gun 'cause you'd probably accidentally shoot me in the arm." Santana takes a breath before continuing, "Being--whatever, famous, successful, that's not a certainty for anyone. But being someone I want to have my back in a fight, that's only you. So."

Rachel presses a lazy kiss to Finn's neck. "What Santana said."

Kurt looks back and forth between Finn and Santana before finally adding, "I have also never won a hand of poker against Finn. Impeccable poker face."

Santana elbows Kurt playfully. "By the way," she reminds them, "if you quote me on any of this, I will actually rip off your head."

Finn grins. "Thanks, Santana. You're awesome."

Santana leans her head against Finn, and Kurt eventually falls asleep against Santana. The four remain on the cold steps of the fire escape until morning. Finn has never felt more at home.


	2. Rachel

Everyone has a breaking point, even Rachel Berry (gold star).

Rachel lives for the stage. Nothing makes her feel more alive than when she's belting out a classic Broadway number in front of a live audience. It's what she's wanted to do for as long as she can remember. Just thinking about it brings knots to her stomach and flushes her with excitement.

When Rachel first moved to New York, she was still the bright-eyed ingenue, eager to prove herself, _desperate_ to prove herself. But living in the city has dulled her shine. It's not exactly that New York has worn her down; it's just so much harder to feel special when she's surrounded by talent day in and day out, not only at school but in her own home.

The rejection isn't the part of the audition process that hurts the most. Rachel has, after all, amassed a long list of rejections since early childhood that has thickened her skin. She knows that in her line of work, there's a certain amount of criticism she has to be prepared to face, however unreasonably. Show business is an industry where looks do matter, regardless how many times she's tried to remind herself that her talents will supersede her appearance.

It's just--the _cruelty_. She can take constructive criticism. Not particularly _well_ , admittedly, but with time to process, she accepts that it's a necessary step to improvement. But some casting directors are nothing more than bullies with massive egos on constant power trips.

Intuitively, Rachel knows that there's no reason to take that type of criticism to heart. But somewhere behind the self-assurance hides a small girl just desperate to be accepted. She could wear as many t-shirts with the word NOSE across the chest as she wants, as proudly as she wants, but comments - over and over - about "fixing" the parts of her that she's always been the most self-conscious about follow and haunt her everywhere she goes.

"You're amazing," Finn tells her every night, eyes reverent. "I'm so lucky."

Rachel doesn't tell him that sometimes, she wishes she'd just stayed in Lima. She could've taught music and done community theatre. He could've worked in Burt's tire shop and eventually taken it over. They could've raised a few children and grown old together. It would've been... a good life. Simple. Less heartbreaking.

There's an audition. Rachel, bogged down by schoolwork, doesn't spend enough time preparing and ends up botching it. The casting director yells at her and gets so nasty that as soon as she runs off stage, she bursts into tears.

Rachel doesn't go home that night. She wanders around the city for a few hours before making her way to Grand Central and shutting off her phone. She just doesn't want to deal with anything or anybody. She's so sick of being disappointed and heartbroken and expected to just bounce back.

Rachel takes a seat on a lonely wooden bench and people-watches for a while. She sees more people passing by in an hour than she would've in days back in Lima. In a way, her irrelevance and anonymity is comforting.

It takes them four hours to find her. In hindsight, she realizes that it's a pretty crappy thing to do, disappearing like that when she knows the other three are expecting her back home. But she hadn't been trying to worry them or beg for their attention; she just quite simply needed some time and space to clear her head.

Kurt takes a seat next to her on the bench and slides closer until their hips are touching. Finn and Santana aren't with him, but Rachel catches him pulling out his phone and sneaking a quick text.

Before he sends it though, he turns to Rachel and quietly asks, "Is it okay if I let them know where you are?"

Rachel nods. Kurt hits send on his phone and slips it back into his pocket.

"Santana volunteered to check out where you were auditioning," he tells her after a moment. "So that should be interesting."

Rachel laughs despite herself. "Oh god, you let her go alone?"

Kurt smiles. "Finn's at NYADA. I gave him my ID."

Rachel bites her lip and looks down at her lap. "I'm sorry about my disappearing act."

Kurt shakes his head. "Can I tell you a secret? You know how I claim to have a two-hour rehearsal every Thursday night? I don't. I just sit somewhere in the city and people-watch for a while."

"Really?"

Kurt nods. "It's only partly about getting away from the loft, mind you. It's mostly just--seeing other people milling about makes my problems seem smaller, you know?"

"Yeah." She does.

Kurt hooks his arm around Rachel's shoulders, and she rests her head against his collar. 

"So maybe," Kurt says, nudging her gently, "you want to join my Thursday night rehearsals?"

Rachel giggles. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Finn runs in a few minutes later, followed closely by Santana. They don't ask her about the audition. Finn just wraps Rachel up in his arms and runs his hand comfortingly through her hair. She pulls away a moment later to apologize for worrying them.

Santana's eyes are red-rimmed like she's been crying. "Don't fucking scare us like that again." She pulls Rachel into a quick but tight hug. "I'm going to murder him," Santana whispers.

Rachel shakes her head. "No, it's--it's not just him. I wasn't prepared."

"Doesn't give him the right," Santana insists.

"He didn't say anything worse than people used to say in high school," Rachel points out.

She doesn't mean for it to be cruel or cutting, but Santana stares at her feet in shame anyway. Kurt and Finn don't look too pleased with themselves either.

Finn reaches out and takes her hand. "We just really love you and stuff. Like more than anything. You know that, right?"

Rachel leans into him. "Yeah, I know." She turns to the other two. "Oh, don't look so somber. We all screwed each other over in high school. Come here."

Santana grins and steps into the hug, Kurt reluctantly following a moment later. Rachel laughs, doing her best to wrap all three of them in her arms.

"If you want to stay here a little longer," Kurt tells her when they separate, "we'll get out of your hair."

Rachel shakes her head, smiling affectionately at him. "I'm ready to go home."


	3. Kurt

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes.

Kurt gets out of Lima because he's different. He gets into NYADA because he's different. His entire life, he has fought for his right to be _different_ in a world that rewards sameness. Somehow, he was able to hold on to his sanity and a shred of self-worth as he deflected blows left and right until he could get out of small town Ohio.

He's not really sure what he expected when he arrived in New York. In a way, things _are_ different. He feels safer holding another man's hand on the street. He casually uses words like "boyfriend" and doesn't brace himself to be knocked off his feet. The scars left by years of bullying never disappear, but they do fade over time in his new environment.

Still, some ideologies are so deeply ingrained in society that it doesn't matter whether he's in Podunk, Ohio or under the bright lights of New York City. He will still never play Tony in West Side Story.

Kurt loves men. It's not even a gay thing; he just loves everything about men - the way they move and speak and carry themselves, the way they dress, the way they _laugh_.

(Fine, it's a little bit of a gay thing, too.)

It's just too bad that the world around him seems to think that "real men" have biceps and jaw lines and killer abs. That masculinity is... abrasive, somehow.

Kurt doesn't want broader shoulders or a deeper voice. He doesn't want sharp angles on his face or facial hair that spreads like wildfire. It would be _easier_ , sure, to conform, but Kurt doesn't want to do that; he just wants to change people's ideas of masculinity.

Why can't an interest in fashion be masculine? Why can't a love of show tunes? When did masculinity become synonymous with a testosterone-driven man-beast asserting himself where he's not wanted?

Kurt related more to girls in high school, but that was because they tended to be more mature and accepting, Santana's internalized homophobia aside. It doesn't mean he's any less of a guy. He just wishes that the powers that be would remember that people who look like him, act like him, sound like him want to be heroes in their own tales, too.

Even here, there aren't many leading roles for him, he knows. It's wired into people's brains - the way a man is supposed to look, the way a _hero_ is supposed to look. They don't look like him, and they definitely don't sound like him. It's all in the mannerisms, his NYADA professors tell him, but all he really hears is too gay, too feminine, _change who you are_.

It doesn't _really_ bother him when Santana calls him by an emasculating nickname. She's harmless, and he knows it's her weird way of showing affection, like that one time she referred to Finn and Rachel as "the oak tree and the woodland creature" for an entire week. But the references to his femininity start to grate when he gets called ma'am by three different people over the phone in the span of an hour as he's trying to get tech support on a failing laptop that he doesn't have the money to replace.

"Lady Hummel."

Kurt ignores her.

"Hey, did you hear me? Did you use up the last of my moisturizer again?"

He snaps. "Shut _up_ , Santana."

Santana stares at him like she has no idea what just happened. Rachel and Finn both stop what they're doing to cautiously observe.

Santana holds up her hands defensively. "Um, okay, that was uncalled for."

"Quit calling me Lady Hummel," Kurt fires back.

Santana looks offended. "Are you serious? Just yesterday you cracked a joke about how our _menstrual cycles_ were all synced up, and I can't call you Lady Hummel?"

"Okay, hey, let's not fight," Finn interjects, approaching them.

Kurt and Santana turn their glares on Finn.

"There's another bottle of moisturizer under the sink," Rachel offers.

"I don't care about the moisturizer. I care about _Lady Hummel_ being an over-sensitive dickwad."

Kurt shoots out of his seat, and Santana, like a fucking cartoon character, actually puts her fists up in front of her face like she's anticipating a brawl. It's _almost_ enough to make Kurt laugh and forget the entire thing.

Finn steps in front of Kurt, shielding him with his body. "Okay, okay. Come on. Let's work this out peacefully."

Kurt sidesteps Finn. "I can defend myself, Finn."

Finn drops his shoulders. "I know, but--"

"But nothing. _Stop_ treating me like I'm fragile."

Rachel sidles up next to Kurt and touches his arm. "Kurt, what is this really about?"

Kurt doesn't really know what to say. It feels silly to grovel over his frustrations when he knows that none of them have any intentions of hurting him.

"I'm just _tired_ of being treated like I'm--"

"What, a woman?" Santana cuts in, rolling her eyes. "How completely awful, right?"

Kurt tightens his jaw. "I'm tired of being told that I'm too gay to play straight. I'm tired of being reminded in my own home that everything everyone says out there is actually _correct_."

Santana's mouth snaps shut. Finn and Rachel pivot to look at him.

"Oh, Kurt," Rachel murmurs, enveloping him in a hug.

Santana shuffles over, hands in her jacket pockets. She pulls one out to pat Kurt gently on the arm. "I'm sorry I called you a dickwad," she mumbles. "I'll try to tone it down, but you know that I would've never said any of those things if I knew they were actually hurting you, right?"

Kurt nods and pulls Santana closer by the arm. "I know."

"But seriously," Santana tells him, "stop using my moisturizer."

Finn raises his arm awkwardly. "That was actually me. It wasn't anything weird; I just, um, my skin was dry, and Kurt said--" He scratches his head sheepishly. "I didn't know it was yours."

Kurt holds Santana back from punching Finn, which earns him a prompt, "Let me go, Hummelsaurus Rex."

Santana breaks free from Kurt's grasp and chases Finn out of the loft, yelling at him in broken Spanish. Kurt turns to Rachel, who smiles up at him.

"You're going to change lives one day, you know. You already have."

A moment later, Finn rushes back in, Santana a few steps behind him. She has somehow managed to get her hands on a large tree branch and is wielding it like a sword. Kurt and Rachel exchange a look.

"Operation: subdue Santana?"

Rachel laughs. "Time to be a hero."


	4. Santana

Blood is thicker than water, her abuela used to tell her.

Santana grew up believing that no matter what happens, her family would be there for her - that her mother would pick her back up, that her father would bandage her injuries, and that her abuela, strict as she was, would always, always love her. Santana believed this until the day she realized that kissing girls wasn't just a phase she'd eventually outgrow. Girls made her feel... well, _everything_. Everything all the books and the songs and the stupid movies told her she should feel, she felt them with girls. That's when she knew she had to fight her way through a world that just wasn't ready to accommodate people like her.

The day her abuela abandoned her was the first day she knew that blood wasn't the only thing thicker than water. If pride had a thickness, it'd beat both, hands down. She carries her grandmother's rejection with her every day.

Five years after the fact, she still hasn't reconciled with her abuela. She wishes she could show her grandmother that regardless who she loves, she is the same girl, just finally at peace with herself, more honest. She wants to bring a girl around one day, introduce her as her girlfriend. She wants her abuela to be happy for her, to be _proud_ of her.

But while she still holds out hope, Santana's had to adjust her view of what it means to be family.

The wedding is a beautiful affair, the second time around. Rachel looks gorgeous in her dress, Finn so handsome in his tux, and when Rachel's dads walk her down the aisle, they're actually ready. Everyone's _ready_. Santana stands behind Rachel, grinning excitedly at Kurt on the other side of Finn as the happy couple exchange vows. It's perfect.

Finn and Rachel move out into a small apartment complex closer to the city. Kurt has been so busy with his new job that he's rarely home, leaving Santana to fend for herself at the loft. Which is fine. She has her own thing going on.

Their lease on the place is expiring soon, and they're all doing well enough that they haven't really _had_ to live in this sketchy neighborhood for a while. Santana starts looking for a place closer to her recording studio; she knows that Kurt has had his eye on a tiny but expensive apartment at the edge of Manhattan.

It feels like they're moving into a new chapter of their lives. It's exciting, but it's also deathly scary.

Santana starts noticing it a few weeks after the wedding. It's the little things. Rachel introduces Kurt as her brother-in-law and then beams about it for the rest of the night. Finn says "wife" as though it wouldn't be true otherwise. And when one of Kurt's friends makes a suggestive comment about Finn's goofy good looks, Kurt snaps, "that's my brother you're talking about!"

Blood is thicker than water, her abuela's voice reminds her.

None of them are related by blood, but it _means_ something to be family. It's always meant something to Santana, who remains close with her parents and still craves her grandmother's affection. If they decided to draw a family tree, Santana's branch wouldn't fit anywhere on it, and that's--completely unbearable to think about.

Santana buries herself in her work and ignores requests to hang out. She doesn't mean to distance herself, but with everyone moving in a hundred directions at once, it's easy to slip away.

One night after a grocery run, Santana returns to the loft and finds herself face-to-face with Rachel for the first time in weeks. Finn and Kurt are hovering behind her.

"This is an intervention," Rachel informs her.

Santana stares at them. "Um."

"You've been avoiding us," Finn explains, "and it sucks 'cause we really miss you."

Santana walks past them. "I'm not avoiding you. I've just been busy."

Rachel follows her into the kitchen, wringing her hands nervously. Finn and Kurt exchange looks before joining them.

"Santana, will you please talk to us?" Rachel asks.

Santana starts putting away groceries. "About what?"

"Did we do something to piss you off?" Finn asks, scratching the back of his head. "It kinda feels like you're mad at us."

"I'm not mad at you," Santana reassures them. "Any of you."

"Do you want us to move back in?" Rachel ventures, taking a step toward her.

Santana spins around. "No, god, what are we, the Brady bunch?"

"Santana," Rachel says in this tiny voice that Santana can't at all deal with.

"You're _family_ ," Santana blurts out, "and I'm not, and I never will be. I'm not--god, I'm not _mad_ ; I just won't ever be a part of your happy little family. Whatever, I'm handling it."

Rachel looks stricken. Kurt blanches visibly, and Finn scrunches up his face for a moment before he works it out. He steps forward.

"Santana, that's like, the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

Rachel throws Finn a dirty look, but he shakes his head.

"No, look, all that stuff is just a bunch of technicals."

"Technicalities," Kurt supplies helpfully.

"Yeah, that." Finn walks over and seems unsure what to do with his arms for a second before taking Santana's hands into his. "The four of us spent the last four years of our lives living together in this crummy little place, and the four before that struggling to figure each other out in high school. I'm not great at math or anything but that's like a huge part of our lives that we spent together. And I mean, even after all the crap we put each other through in high school, we all _chose_ each other. You chose us, and we chose you. Family is just like, a stupid dictionary word."

"Even if it weren't," Rachel adds, "do you really think that defines the way we feel about you, Santana? Do you think that we'd leave you behind because of _semantics_?"

"Rachel's right, you know," Kurt pipes up, stepping closer. "Besides, I consider you my family as much as I consider either of these goofballs, so Merriam-Webster can suck it." He brings his hand to the side of his face, scandalously cupping it against his cheek. "Between you and me," he mutters out of the side of his mouth, "most of the time, I like you better."

Rachel gasps dramatically before she beams, spinning Santana away from Finn and into a hug. She pins Santana's cheeks between her palms when she pulls away.

"Don't ever doubt that you're a part of our family again, okay? Or there _will_ be a three-part presentation about why you absolutely are."

Santana laughs softly. "Got it."

"I mean, your other option is to marry Kurt," Rachel deadpans.

Santana and Kurt stare at each other for a moment before simultaneously gagging. Finn laughs, hooking his arm over Kurt's shoulders.

Santana smiles. They'll be okay, the four of them. Santana's family will be just fine.


End file.
